


Lesson Learned

by frozenCinders



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Dark Irregulars, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: Satoru escapes the vampire's castle and quickly realizes that's not what he wanted.





	

"My new pet has run away," Scharhrot started, bored gaze almost struggling to stay on the vampire kneeling before him. "Obviously this warrants punishment... while your service to me deserves a long overdue reward."

A lie, obviously. Scharhrot couldn't stand this one whose name he didn't bother to remember. Thankfully, his status made it so he didn't need to address him by name.

"Ah... a thousand pardons, my lord, but I fail to see the correlation..?"

"You and many others have taken notice of him. Nobody but me has indulged thus far, and I'm willing to allow you to be the second."

Scharhrot's own words left a bad taste in his mouth. He hated sharing and he  _especially_  hated the inevitable lingering flavor the vampire will leave behind on Satoru. As a result of really not caring at all, Scharhrot almost missed the look of pure excitement rousing in the vampire's eyes.

"You would truly allow me this honor? Where should I begin..?" he asked, hands wringing each other.

"I will lead you to the area he's fled to, and from there," Scharhrot stood, walking past his kneeling subject, "you may feed until he approaches death's door. But only just. Ah, and do not mention me in any way, should you speak to him. We'll work out the rest of the details on the way."

"Of course! This is a great honor, my lord! It will not be forgotten." The vampire was wearing an excited, somewhat unappealing face that Scharhrot couldn't train his eyes on if he tried. It'll be a great burden off his shoulders once the little cretin dies.

* * *

 

Satoru allowed himself, against his better judgement, to pause for a moment. The combination of his aching legs, his breathing that came in harsh pants, and the adrenaline of attempting to escape from a vampire's castle was starting to make him dizzy. He attempted to still his shaking, leaning on a tree for support as he caught his breath. He'd been running for what must have been hours and his clothes were already drenched in sweat.

He closed his eyes and adjusted to press his back to the tree trunk, unwary of bugs and dirt getting in his hair for the first time in his life. Lying on the ground was tempting, but he couldn't afford to waste time. If he heard something approaching, it would be much easier to just push off from the tree than to get up. His breath finally beginning to catch up to him, Satoru sighed.

Which quickly became difficult as a sudden pressure closed around his throat. Satoru's heart nearly lept out of his chest, sent racing once more as his eyes widened, mere inches from an unfamiliar face.

"Aren't you just a doll?" the stranger laughed, smiling even wider as Satoru's hands flew up to struggle against the one around his throat.

The stranger grabbed one of Satoru's hands and wasted no time in biting harshly into his wrist, forcing a yelp out of Satoru. It hurt worse than any bite Scharhrot had given him thus far, and this vampire didn't seem to care for preserving him like Scharhrot did. When the vampire finished with his wrist, he threw Satoru's hand aside and moved the one around his neck to bite there, fingers knotting themselves painfully into his hair.

As if suddenly remembering Satoru theoretically had more than his hands to resist with- though he could hardly stand on his legs at the moment, much less move them- the vampire delivered a brutal kick to his leg, the hand in his hair moving to claw down the unbitten side of his neck as Satoru screamed out in pain. Helpless and terrified, Satoru barely noticed the hot tears streaming down his face.

The vampire fell into gleeful laughter again as he snatched Satoru's uninjured wrist, gripping it with such superhuman strength that Satoru was convinced it would break- he definitely felt something snap and it was  _excruciating_. The vampire then dug his claws deeply into Satoru's skin, tearing all the way down his forearm. Satoru's throat was already raw and it just hurt even more to scream but he couldn't stop himself. He found that he had no energy left to really control any part of his body.

The vampire's other hand had moved again, claws biting into his side through his clothes, soaking them with blood. Satoru had long since squeezed his eyes shut, but he managed to force them open to glance at his attacker again, who was covered in copious amounts of blood already. Satoru couldn't imagine how horrifying he himself must have looked. One of the vampire's hands was back on his neck despite the fact that his mouth was still busy with the blood pouring out of Satoru's arm. It began to grip him too tightly, quickly cutting off his air-

He heard a strange, deep, unnatural sound and a weak moan before he was released all at once and the vampire fell over at his feet. Without the vampire holding him up, Satoru's knees immediately buckled under him, throwing him to the ground. The pain of the fall still somehow registered despite the rest of his abused body trying its damnedest to distract him. He looked up and, through tears and the darkness of night, was able to recognize Scharhrot. If he wasn't backed up against a tree already- and if his legs wanted to move, he would have moved as far back away from him as he could.

Anticipating the back of Scharhrot's hand, Satoru braced himself with a sob when he saw the slightest hint of movement from Scharhrot. When nothing happened, he cautiously opened his eyes to see Scharhrot had crouched to be at eye level with him.

"This is what happens when you leave my protection," he said, voice seemingly unaffected by anger at Satoru running away in the first place. "Is this what you want?"

"N-nno," Satoru managed, voice shaky, ragged, and wet. He swallowed and raised the hand that didn't reside on a broken wrist to wipe his eyes, but Scharhrot grabbed it and set it aside. Placing his hands on either side of Satoru's face, he gently wiped his tears away with his thumbs.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked softly. Satoru felt a mix of dread and, somehow, comfort at his words. He sniffled and nodded.

Scharhrot's hands moved from Satoru's face down to his shoulders, then arms, then around to his back, embracing him. Satoru's trembling arms rose to rest against Scharhrot's chest, finding him oddly warm for a vampire. Too soon, Scharhrot broke their embrace and maneuvered his arm under Satoru's legs to pick him up. Satoru's arms automatically wrapped around Scharhrot's neck for support.

"You smell very strongly of blood," Scharhrot informed as he began walking, "and this will persist even after you're healed. We will sleep together for a few days to ensure nobody attacks you while you sleep."

Satoru could no longer find the energy to nod, his ear up to Scharhrot's chest and wondering in the back of his mind what was missing as all he heard was the dirt and twigs under Scharhrot's feet as he carried Satoru through the lightly forested area.

"You're in Dark Zone now, pet. You're safe nowhere but with me."

Scharhrot's words made sense. If Satoru belonged to him, Scharhrot would keep him safe. He wouldn't have to experience anything like that attack again, or worse. He could have been found by a serial killer who liked to torture their victims, or perhaps something worse that Satoru couldn't even imagine.

"Now, what do you say?" Scharhrot asked, stopping to look down at Satoru in his arms.

"Yes, master."

* * *

When Satoru next opened his eyes, there was a young woman who'd just pulled away from him. He looked down to see a cast around his arm, but somehow felt very little pain. The deep, long gashes on his arm were nowhere to be found, leaving Satoru with just about nothing but an unfamiliar ache in his wrist. He tilted his head, swallowing to find his throat was quite dry and extremely sore.

"Good morning, boy," the woman greeted. "My magic has taken care of most of your wounds, but broken bones take time and care to mend. You'll have to wear that cast and refrain from any strenuous activities for a while. Are you right or left handed?"

Satoru gave a painful croak that didn't resemble a word in any language.

"Well, if you're left handed then refrain from writing and other such activies until you can get the cast removed." She then walked over to the sink in the room and grabbed a tiny plastic cup, filling it with tap water before handing it to him.

Satoru took the cup with his good hand and eagerly gulped its contents down, craving much more but uncertain if it was his place to ask for more. Instead, he easily surrendered the cup when she placed her hand on his. Upon further inspection, the room appeared to be a nurse's office of sorts, though it still rang unfamiliar to him due to the differences between this world and his. For starters, there was no magic to instantly cure your wounds on Earth.

Satoru jumped when something moved from directly behind him, immediately calming himself when he saw it was just Scharhrot, who he must have been leaning on in his sleep. Even the phrase " _just_  Scharhrot" sounded incredible to Satoru, with Scharhrot having been the most terrifying person he'd ever met just a day ago. Now, however, his presence inspired comfort in Satoru. Who was to say the woman treating his wounds didn't have malice in her heart as well? What would have become of Satoru if Scharhrot had just dropped him off there rather than waiting to make sure he was alright?

"You'll need more than that," Scharhrot murmured low in his ear. "You'll have a drink, a shower, and a meal as soon as we finish up here."

Satoru brought a hand up to his neck and noticed the state of his hair. While most of the blood must have been either wiped off or magicked away, Satoru's hair was still messy with some of it, the curls around his neck stiff and unpleasant. Scharhrot batted at Satoru's hand and stood, motioning for Satoru to do so as well as the woman handed Scharhrot a sheet of paper off the clipboard she'd been writing on.

"Here's all the information you'll need. Bathing with a cast can be tricky, so please be sure to let him read this as well." She bowed and stepped back when Scharhrot hummed. He glanced back at Satoru and walked towards the door.

"Thank you," Satoru said to the woman, sparing a second to notice her smile before following Scharhrot.

Unsure of what to say, Satoru stared at Scharhrot, waiting for him to start talking. He lowered the paper he'd been reading and his gaze found Satoru's eyes, still silent.

"Sch- sir? Er, master?" Satoru stumbled over his words, unsurprisingly willing to be respectful now. Before, he'd refused to address Scharhrot directly and just used his name when thinking of him. When Scharhrot did force Satoru to call him master, the word held subtle heat and venom, never approaching genuine.

"You're taking a bath, not a shower," Scharhrot said, not acknowledging Satoru had spoken.

"I thought I was supposed to read it too?" Satoru hoped his tone was meek enough, which couldn't have been too hard considering his voice was still heavily affected by his raw throat.

At this, Scharhrot handed the paper to him. He half-expected an irritated explanation as to why Satoru didn't actually need to read it, but apparently it had just slipped his mind. Satoru skimmed it so as not to distract too much from walking. Keep it dry, sleep with it elevated, ignore itches-

Satoru gasped as he accidentally bumped into Scharhrot, eyes widening as he backed up. Scharhrot had paused without warning, which thankfully seemed to work as an excuse not to punish him. Or maybe Scharhrot was planning to go easy on him for a while in light of the attack.

"Now that you're feeling obedient, I'll tell you something," Scharhrot said, turning to face him fully rather than continuing to side-eye him. "Good behavior will be rewarded. You've already seen what bad behavior results in."

Satoru's heartbeat sped up, anxious of what Scharhrot was getting at.

"You know why I do it, right?" His voice was lower now, softer. Satoru tensed up and had to resist backing away when Scharhrot reached for him, only to rest his hands on Satoru's arms.

"What if I'd just ignored you acting up? What if I didn't track you down when you escaped? You could be dead right now."

"I'm sorry. I understand now," Satoru whispered, gaze finding the floor. One of Scharhrot's hands slid up his arm and cupped his cheek.

"Good boy," Scharhrot said for the first time.

Satoru's eyes widened and a strange feeling washed over him. He looked up at Scharhrot's tranquil face and the promise of not attempting to escape again felt a lot more genuine. Satoru suddenly had the urge to prove that to him. He couldn't think of a way at the moment, but it would come to him eventually.

Scharhrot allowed his hands to fall to his sides and Satoru felt somehow lonely without Scharhrot's touch. His mind returned to Scharhrot saying they'd be sleeping together and he felt his heart rate pick up again. The image of being curled up at Scharhrot's side seemed a lot more appealing than it did a few mere hours ago.

After a quick trip to the kitchen for a drink, Satoru paused outside his door once they'd reached it but Scharhrot kept walking.

"I thought..." Scharhrot beckoned him without turning around, so Satoru continued following him.

When Scharhrot finally did stop walking (Satoru was thankful, his legs were still suffering from all the running he'd done), it was in front of his own room. He placed a hand on Satoru's back and pushed him along with him.

"Your room..?"

"You'll be sleeping in here for a time. Make yourself familiar with it." Scharhrot closed the door as he spoke, the quick action of locking it causing Satoru to flinch. Scharhrot eyed him as he walked to the master bathroom, waiting for Satoru to walk up to him before opening the door.

"I... I can bathe on my own..."

Scharhrot's eyes narrowed and a set of claws punctured the side of Satoru's neck. Satoru gasped but found it in himself not to panic. He expected the explanation of Scharhrot wanting to be there in case the cast got wet or something else went awry.

"Do not question me without permission," he warned instead, a familiar phrase by now to Satoru.

Satoru nodded, tensing up as Scharhrot leaned in to lap at the blood on Satoru's neck, the gingerness of it causing an unfortunate reaction. He wanted to protest further to avoid finding out how Scharhrot would react knowing he'd aroused his prey, but kept quiet so as not to disobey him. It wasn't noticeable yet, but Satoru had a feeling it would be soon, with Scharhrot now gently sucking at his neck. His gentler touches, while rare, had already inspired slightly pleasurable feelings but he'd never felt himself getting half hard just from having Scharhrot's mouth on his neck.

Satoru felt his face getting hot and whined softly, hoping that reminded Scharhrot to get off of him. Instead, without removing his mouth, Scharhrot began sliding his hands up Satoru's sides under his shirt. Satoru shuddered, bringing his good hand up to rest on Scharhrot's arm. Scharhrot pulled away from his neck to pull Satoru's shirt over his head, tossing it aside and standing fully behind him.

Scharhrot's hands slid down his sides, slowing down at his waist and coming to rest on his hips, thumbs hooked under his waistband. Satoru belatedly noticed his breathing was uneven as Scharhrot leaned in again, pressing his lips to Satoru's neck but not biting. He moaned shakily and leaned his head back when Scharhrot slipped a hand under his pants instead of removing them. First taking a moment to coax Satoru to full hardness, Scharhrot fully undressed Satoru.

Shivering when Scharhrot left him, Satoru watched him turn the faucet for the tub on, suddenly feeling slightly less excited and more exposed from the cool air. Satoru awkwardly kneeled next to Scharhrot beside the tub, not daring to touch himself.

"You'll sit there," Scharhrot said, pointing to the end of the tub lacking a faucet. Satoru wondered what the point in specifying was but didn't question it.

The tub filled too slowly for Satoru's liking, time appearing to slow down thanks to his arousal. Just when Satoru thought Scharhrot was ignoring him, Scharhrot moved behind him, placing one leg on either side of Satoru and running a hand across his chest, stroking the backs of his fingers down to his thigh. Satoru scooted back, face returning to full redness when he felt Scharhrot was half hard against his back.

Satoru pushed up a little on his knees, rubbing against Scharhrot as he traced little circles on his inner thigh. Scharhrot seemed to appreciate it, placing his other hand on Satoru's hip and letting his thumb wander, rubbing soothing patterns on his skin. Satoru sighed, legs starting to tremble from supporting his weight whilst already exhausted, and Scharhrot moved away from him all at once. Satoru looked at the tub to realize it was full, with Scharhrot turning the faucet off.

Scharhrot looked at him expectantly and Satoru hesitantly stood, carefully getting into the tub with averted eyes, trying to keep his cast at the front of his mind so he wouldn't forget not to dip it in the water. Once he was submerged, Satoru pressed his back against the specified end of the tub and hung his left arm over the side.

With enough room to do so, Scharhrot sat behind Satoru outside of the tub, pressing up against it to rest his head on Satoru's shoulder. He brushed Satoru's hair out of the way and grabbed the washcloth resting over the side of the tub as well as a bottle of soap on the floor next to it. He dipped the washcloth in water and lathered it, placing the bottle back on the floor to free up a hand, which he used to ease Satoru's leg out of the water and slowly run the washcloth down it.

"Touch yourself," Scharhrot ordered, tapping Satoru's good hand, "but don't come until I tell you to."

Unsure if he would be able to follow both orders, Satoru ignored his erection for the moment and circled his nipple with his thumb, left hand twitching but remaining outside of the tub. Scharhrot continued washing him as Satoru slowly slid his hand down to wrap around his cock, the feeling of touching himself underwater actually quite foreign. Scharhrot moved his head closer to Satoru's, ceasing leaning forward as he finished up with Satoru's legs, and the added breath on his neck caused Satoru to quicken his pace slightly.

Scharhrot rubbed the cloth down Satoru's moving arm, in no hurry to move on to the next body part, Scharhrot's hand briefly wrapping around his arm through the washcloth. His free hand held Satoru's left arm in place as he moved to carefully clean that one as well, his breath leaving Satoru's neck when he did. Satoru's pace slowed as well, remembering his orders but knowing he didn't have much stamina.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up into his hand.

"Stop if you won't last."

With great reluctance, Satoru obeyed, slowing his pace to a halt and moving his hand to the floor of the tub, squirming while Scharhrot washed his face. He ducked underwater to rinse the soap off, sure to get his hair wet in the process as well. When he arose, his only available hand trying to wipe the water away from his eyes, Scharhrot had already grabbed the shampoo and spread it onto his hands, lathering it into Satoru's hair and gently massaging his head in the process. Satoru leaned back into it, trying to ignore his twitching erection.

Satoru rinsed the shampoo out when Scharhrot pushed down slightly, indicating permission. He grimaced when he surfaced and saw the bottle of conditioner in Scharhrot's hand, having hoped shampoo was enough for the moment. His hair received another helping of suds, this time being left in silence for a moment while it set in.

Feeling a surge of excitement when he was allowed to rinse the conditioner out, he made quick work of it, eagerly turning around to face Scharhrot when he was done. Scharhrot pointed to the drain and Satoru scooted over to pull the plug, allowing the water to start draining. Facing him again, Satoru kneeled rather than sitting, his nipples easily hardening in the cool air.

Scharhrot took one into his mouth and Satoru gave a high, surprised moan, worrying for a moment if he was going to bite. Thankfully, his fangs stayed away while his tongue swirled around it. Desperate for friction, Satoru began stroking himself again, his moans bouncing off the walls and making them sound even louder. Scharhrot released the nub to show the other side the same treatment, suckling at the nipple while he rubbed at the other between his fingers.

"Ah, m-master, master, I need-" Satoru released a particularly loud moan, head falling backwards and back arching as he approached his climax.

"P-p-please, please, please," he whined, only vaguely fearful of punishment as Scharhrot returning to his neck, sucking at it without biting him, muttering something too low for Satoru to hear over his own keening moans as he came.

The splatter barely hit the water as what little was left of it drained, Satoru still milking his orgasm, eyes closed and voice spent once more, his noises reduced to mere pants and sighs. As if snapping out of a trance, Satoru's eyes snapped open and he looked down at Scharhrot, collapsing to sit on his calves and give his knees a rest.

"Did I...?"

"You had my permission," Scharhrot assured. Satoru breathed a sigh of relief.

Looking down and back up to Scharhrot's eyes, Satoru noticed he was still hard.

"Sh-should... may I?" Satoru asked, suddenly very aware that he'd never previously had any sexual encounters and had no experience pleasing others. When Scharhrot nodded and leaned back, Satoru's hand was less than steady in its attempts to free his erection.

Scharhrot's hand traveled down to assist him, wrapping Satoru's hand around himself with his own. Satoru stroked him slowly at first, eyes flicking up to Scharhrot's face to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong somehow. Seeing no discomfort, Satoru sped his pace, urged on by Scharhrot's low, barely audible noises and the hand that moved up to rest on the back of Satoru's neck. Scharhrot gave no noticeable indication that he was close, giving a sharp gasp and tightening his grip on Satoru's wet hair and suddenly coating Satoru's hand with semen.

Satoru caught it all, taking unexpected satisfaction from spreading it on Scharhrot's cock as he kept stroking, although that only made it more difficult to clean up. Waiting until Scharhrot released his grip on his hair, Satoru cleaned up with the very last bit of the water, his body completely exposed just a few seconds later. Scharhrot then put himself away and stood, walking over to grab a towel and a bathrobe and toss them to Satoru.

Satoru stepped out of the tub, carefully set the bathrobe on the floor for the moment, and proceeded to dry off, slowing his movements and tensing up when he realized Scharhrot was staring at him.

"..?" Satoru offered a small, curious hum.

"Nothing," Scharhrot said, "continue."

He finished drying himself off as quickly as possible, throwing the bathrobe on and approaching Scharhrot, whose gaze raked over him before he turned around and walked out the door. Satoru followed, eyelids already growing heavy and Scharhrot's bed looking extremely tempting.

"May I sleep? Master?" he added as an afterthought, trying to get used to calling him that. Scharhrot turned to regard him.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, walking back to Satoru.

"I'm more tired than hungry right now... is it alright if I sleep now?"

"Yes, but you're not skipping breakfast." Scharhrot sat on the bed and beckoned Satoru, who wasted no time in lying down on his front and closing his eyes. He dozed almost immediately, not registering the few minutes between Scharhrot propping Satoru's left arm up with something he didn't open his eyes look at, pulling the blanket out from under him to throw it over him, and getting into bed with him already dressed in nightclothes.

Satoru felt the weight of Scharhrot's arm on his back as he succumbed fully to sleep, inspiring one last feeling of safety.

**Author's Note:**

> this was actually my first time writing someone getting hurt like this so my apologies if it's lackluster or inaccurate


End file.
